


Maybe in Cuba?

by linkSee



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Bi-Curiosity, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Sexuality Crisis, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-01-31 17:48:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21450232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linkSee/pseuds/linkSee
Summary: It didn't matter how long it took, even if he failed over and over and over again. Lance was determined to save Keith.He loved him.Even if it meant sacrificing himself in the process. Lance was willing to do anything for that dumbass, fuck, he loved him.He just wasn't sure if Keith felt the same.
Relationships: James Griffin/Keith (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So I've decided to run with a new klance idea but I don't really have a plot planned out so it's just me writing whatever I feel like haha. Im definitely going to finish this and really love feedback or suggestions for plot or future chapters! Thanks so much and enjoy:))

There was an inevitable thought that kept tracing through Lance's mind. The neverending reminder that maybe this could be different. He fruitlessly hoped for things to be different. The circumstances of his own life seemed to work against him every chance it got; he strenuously fought against the tide that pushed and pulled him. 

But everything he did was futile.

Lance had a small ongoing fantasy, he had a silly, hopelessly romantic daydream that even Hunk would mock him for. It wasn't as if he knew how unrealistic and dumb it was. He knew his expectations were well beyond anything reality could provide for him. But a dumbass could dream, couldn't he? 

He even felt idiotic at times thinking about it, in fact a tinge of guilt and shame would overwhelm him. He didn't know if he was guilty, or if his subconscious could even make him guilty, but he felt it. 

There was also a childlike charm to his fantasy. He would always hold onto what made him happy as a kid. Stupid childish things did, after all, still relate to what made him happy when he was older. He was 18, not that he was an adult, but legally, sure.

His fantasy, his pipe dream, his constant pining, it sucked as all hell. He was stuck on one thing he couldn't shake and he couldn't move on from.

Maybe in Cuba. That was it, wasn't it? Maybe in Cuba it would come true for him. Maybe in Cuba his impractical wishes to God would be practical. Maybe in Cuba he would smile more.

Maybe in Cuba he would stop thinking maybe in Cuba.

.  
.  
.

Keith gave a sideways smile, rarely did he look so... happy? He put an arm on his hip and rolled his eyes playfully, there was no doubt he was being playful. Anyone in their near vicinity who knew Keith could tell he was being playful. He was never this fucking playful.

"Alright one more time for your mentally slow brain" Keith's grin was cute, but the way he always looked Lance straight in the eyes was somewhat uncomfortable. How the hell was Lance supposed to look him back in the eyes, he could not look at that hot fucking piece of shit in the eyes.

"Aliens," Keith started, "they gotta be real, that's a given. But I saw a documentary and I mean they HAVE to be on Earth. We just don't know about it! It makes sense, doesn't it? What the hell else is gonna explain all the weird shit thats been happening?"

No... No. No. No. No. Lance raised an eyebrow, "Soooo like Area 51, your opinion on that is...?"

"Well there's no evidence but..." Keith clearly had spent too much time diving deep into conspiracies. He definitely had his mind set on one belief. Aliens. Sure, he didn't have faith in God or Santa or the Holiday Armadillo, but aliens? Yes.

"NO BUTS!" Lance threw his hands up, "there's no evidence! There's no buts!"

Keith folded his arms and scrunched his face, "okay I hear you, I really do. But I can't not believe it. They're fucking out there. Don't cry to me when your abducted, okay?"

Lance face palmed and vigorously shook his head. It didn't even make sense. Keith KNEW there was no evidence. He KNEW that. And yes, when Keith said he believed in aliens you better goddamn know he means green bobbleheads that have flying saucers. And you better know Keith thinks he's gonna be abducted some day and live to tell about it.

"Dios mio, how the fuck are you a sane human? How can you claim to be sane?"

He shrugged, "people believe in God, right? Well I believe in aliens."

Lance's mouth dropped,"That's completely different, Dumbass! Where's your fucking alien Bible, huh?"

"My alien Bible?" He shrugged, now suddenly considering that he did indeed want an alien bible.

To sum up his life there were now a few things he needed to list: his hot as hell roommate, Keith. He was most definitely not pining after him, and he was most definitely NOT gay. Okay he had to admit, he questioned his sexuality when he stared at Keith's ass that one time, but he had a girlfriend! He was dating! Okay, Lance uses the word "dating" loosely, as his thing with Lea wasn't really official. Nothing he did was really official anymore. He just sorta played around with girls since he never felt committed to any of them. 

Okay. Fine. There was a small, little crush on Keith but only because he made him laugh and he had this cool ear piercing and he had these fine tattoos and he always looked so goddamn... So goddamn. Fuck it. 

Keith was unattainable, not because Lance felt he couldn't get someone like Keith, but because it was Keith. Did that make any sense? It was real, what he felt. How could he express that? He dumped all his emotions in this girl and that girl and sometimes a guy or two would slip in but he would keep saying he wasn't gay because he didn't see himself that way. He didn't see himself the way he saw other gay people. He didn't see himself the way gay people were seen in society. A little label was unnecessary. He was straight. He was gay. He was bi. He was queer. He was pan. He was whatever. What was the point? So people could simply put him in a box? What if he was straight for a 20 years and then for a week he was gay but then he wasn't attracted to anyone but also he wanted to fuck everything. Did that have a label? Because that's how he felt.

"Lance?" Keith's sharp eyes jetted into the pathway of his thoughts, "don't ignore my Alien theories, I don't just go around telling anyone them."

The side of lance mouth tugged upwards, it was ridiculous, truly, "sorry," there was a soft undertone, a sad undertone as he spoke to Keith. It was almost always there, as a reminder of what he can't have, "just stuck in my thoughts."

Keith really didn't have anything to say to that, he just looked at Lance, a little lost on why he had that sad undertone always stuck in his voice like a cough. Maybe Lance was sick with a fever, or maybe he had a headache or a cold.

Lance quickly shoved the blues away with a good ole grin, then he gently punched Keith's shoulder, breaking the weird stare between them, "Hey, don't look at me like that, I'm straight!"

Keith's mouth was agape with a little shock, his head cocked to the side, surprised. It was the first time Lance had said anything in that territory, the flirting territory. Keith never had hit on Lance and never had intended to, and Lance knew that. Lance knew that. He was well aware of that.

Keith's confusion quickly turned into a smirk and sarcastic eye roll, "Picking up mixed signals, Lance? Cuz you're the only one who's giving off that vibe." 

"You're the gay one around here!"

"Well after tonight, I wonder..." But Keith dropped it and changed the topic, "Anyways, I have to head back, got some shitty painting to finish. You coming?"

"Nah, I'll catch up with you later. I'm gonna walk around, do some more mindless thinking."

That's right. Another thing Lance forgot. Keith paints. He was a fucking artist with artist friends and he was talented. Like he pretended his artworks were little in the "artworld" compared to others. But he was fantastic, and Lance thinks, deep down, Keith was well aware of it. 

.  
.  
.

Lance did walk around for some time, but it was not for the same reason he had told Keith. It was not because he wanted to think. Lance couldn't spend another minute with him. He literally resented the fact Keith was his roommate. 

Keith was, to some extent, some might say, but Lance would never call him it, a fuck boy. It wasn't always so noticeable, however. Keith kinda hid it. But the signs were clear: he would show up late at night, hair messy, partly undressed. He always would sneak into the dorm quietly, thinking Lance didn't hear him. But Lance always was awake and alert. Sometimes, when Lance got annoyed and frustrated, he would ask questions. Where were you tonight? Did you go to another "party"? How fucking wasted are you? Sometimes he would just ask are you okay? There were times were Keith simply wasn't himself.

And the most silly, absolutely irritating thing would happen every. single. time. He would flip him off, in a playful way, but you could tell in his eyes he was detached and distant. Keith would ignore him, but only to avoid the conversation that they both knew would follow. Lance knew what he would say if that were to happen. He actually had thought about how it would all go in his head, if Keith let the conversation happen.

Lance got the fact he was hypocritical. He was the same way with girls. He simply didn't have the need to hide it. Why did Keith feel the need to be so secretive and reserved? 

They had a system. If the little red bell was hung on the door knob, don't come in. If the bell was on the door knob don't fucking come in. 

There was one month, Lance couldn't help but relive, where he was pissed at Keith. Not the way he's angry at a friend or a roommate, where he will suppress his anger until it slowly drains away, but it was a sharp and irritable anger. It seemed Kieth was the only one who could make him physically mad. 

He walked in on them: Keith and James. They didn't realize at first. They were on the bed and James was on top of Keith furiously pushing down on him. Lance froze, he felt paralyzed, staring at something he certainly wasn't supposed to have seen. He couldn't tear his eyes away, he felt an anchor drop in his stomach.

The bell had been on the door. He knew it the second after he walked in on them. To some extent, he knew it was there all along. 

It was the first time he found out about Keith's sexuality, but for some reason it didn't come as a shock to him. It was merely a puzzle that was now put together but Lance had already seen all tiny pieces. His conscience knew. His intuition and instincts had been suspicious. But now it was real. 

Lance was fine with it, he was fine with Keith that is.

He wasn't really okay with himself.

He remembered staring at James, not Keith, looking at him longer than he was willing to admit to himself. James, he knew him. He was older. At least by a few years and he had tattoos that covered his skin and he was tall and he rode a motorcycle and he had black hair and he was muscular. Fuck, James was just a better version of himself. A cooler, hotter, darker version of himself. He wanted his attraction and he wanted to be able to act how James acted. He wanted to be where James was.

That month, the month Keith kept fucking James, the month Keith had yelled at him for walking in, the month Lance couldn't think, the month Lance couldn't breath properly, Lance remembered it. He remembered it like it meant something to someone, but that fading month really only had meaning to himself.

He pulled himself back to reality before he dug a deeper hole into his memories. 

Maybe, Lance thought, maybe things would be different if both of them existed at a different time and a different place.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I've decided to run with a little bit of a science fiction plot with a small twist at the end, let me know what you think and thanks so much for reading!

There was something funny about the way Keith always looked at him. He would slightly lean his head to one side, his mouth agape, like he was confused. His eyes would always be staring directly into Lance's, always making it awkward for Lance, but yet somehow sort of vulnerable. Keith's eyes were this strange violet color. They were a deep pool that would reflect a purple hue in certain lights. But that wasn't just it. Kieth never dropped that expression on his face. It looked like he was fully committed to the conversation yet bewildered all at once. Lance didn't know. Maybe he was just looking for something.

.  
.  
.

Ya, first year of college was plenty of fun. He loved stress and being perpetually confused and experiencing an existential crisis every night. Lance really did struggle with the existential crisis thing quite often. What the fuck was he doing on this planet at this time and why was he always put in the most inconvenient situations? Seriously, the world always seemed to give him a giant "fuck you" whenever he tried to accomplish anything. The year he asked out that girl he really liked and, sure, she said yes, but then ended up screwing some other guy the same day they went out. That was fun. Oh, not to mention, the time he kissed a dude (which had a long story behind it, geez!) and he was unaware it was being videotaped. Ya, that ended exactly how anyone would imagine.

Hunk truly had been the greatest gift to humanity. There was no way a human being in California could get more nice than him, he baked free food for Lance. He let Lance talk about shit without the occasional "what the fuck, Lance" that he would receive from everyone else. Hunk refuses to talk shit on people. He was literally God's singular gift to him: a nice friend.

Hunk met him outside by the water fountain. It basically was the center of Garrison University, the core that people tender to shift towards because it's had some gravitational pull. Lance didn't get it, but people just sorta stood around there.

"Dude, you gotta relax, ya know?" Hunk rested his arm over Lance's shoulders, "look, Lea isn't not into you. She just hasn't initiated anything."

"Ya, I know, I know, " Lance folded his arms, he really didn't find that as reassuring as he hoped, "but she really hasn't said anything to me lately. You think she's avoiding me?"

"No. Of course not!" He paused and examined Lance's face, "okay maybe a little..."

Lance threw his arms in the air, "I knew it! See, even you think so."

"Dude, but it's only because your so not normal lately, ya know? Usually your willing to do all the work in the relationship but now it seems you got no interest in her. I mean, do you even like her?"

Lance kinda shrugged the question off, it pin pointed his problems a little too accurately, "whatever, I guess she's not my type." 

Lance kicked some rocks as he and Hunk walked to the dorms. He playfully scruffed up his hair and then amusingly pushed Hunk to the side.

Hunk stumbled a little, "you're literally five years old," he couldn't help but grin. 

Lance got into a fighting stance and put his guard up up, "Come at me! I can take you!" 

He threw a few invisible jabs and lightly bounced on the balls of his feet. Then he made little finger guns, and closed one of his eyes to aim, "Pew! Pew! Pew!"

"I would literally crush you." Hunk chuckled, rolling his eyes, crushing Lance's dreams.

"Not even a round of wrestling? I could win! I've got skills."

"Dude, you would not be able to breathe. Your lungs? They would be crushed."

He bounced around a few more times, but it was clear Hunk wasn't gonna budge. Lance finally gave it up, "Guess I should stick to skateboarding, huh?"

Lance skateboarded a lot, he could do some cool rail tricks and even a flip. That was about as impressive as any of his talents got. For a while as a kid he took karate, but he quit when he realized he sucked at it. He did it for 7 years though. 7 years. He liked to think he could win a fight if it ever came down to it, but he still knew he sucked.

His phone buzzed. He slightly smiled to himself when he saw who the text was from. He didn't even know the guy, not personally, but he kinda just liked texting him. 

"Who's that?" Hunk leaned over Lance's shoulder.

"Just a friend."

"The redsamurai? What is that, some sort of code name?"

Lance laughed, it was pretty dumb, "Ya I guess, I'm the cubanmotherfucker."

"Alright, well who is it actually? Do I know him?"

"Someone's nosy. And no, you don't. And I neither do I to be honest. I sorta just met him on an online chatroom and we hit it off. What can I say? I have that effect on people."

"So you have an online boyfriend?" A new voice joined into the conversation, one of which Lance could recognize immediately. Pidge. And it was clear they weren't going to drop the fact he was texting a guy: online and unknown. Fuck, Lance thought, would have been thinking the same thing. He probably just found himself an online boyfriend.

"No. NO. Obviously NOT. C'mon Pidge, I'm with Lea," Lance didn't sound as convincing as he hoped to be.

"Lea's not into you and you're not into her. You gotta stop using that excuse."

"No. YOU gotta stop using that excuse!"

"What?"

"Dumbass, maybe you're into Lea," Lance mumbled to himself as he awkwardly tried to divert the conversation away from his online life.

Pidge stared blankly at him, literally speechless and confused. But they brushed off Lance's random fit of nonsense, and immediately began talking to Hunk. Lance stared at his phone.

redsamurai: I think I've fucked up my life. Seriously. Send help.

He thought about replying immediately, but he stopped himself. He had time and didn't actually care about this guy. He didn't need to be at his beck and call. He had his own life and could text him later. Lance shoved his phone back into his pocket and forgot about it. Out of sight, out of mind. He threw his arms back behind his head, relaxed and nonchalant. There was no need to worry.

But he said his life was "fucked" and that's gotta be pretty damn bad.

No. He was probably just exaggerating, Lance could text him later.

.  
.  
.

When Lance returned to the dorm he simply wanted to lay down take a nap and get some sleep. It was getting pretty late and he'd could feel his head begin to pound and his limbs were heavy. He put his hand on the door knob, but just before he pushed it open, he heard something. It was pretty damn clear to him what it was. He softly took a seat on the ground, leaning his head back against the wall. His chest felt tight and a wave of disappointment overcame him. A million thoughts crossed his mind as he sorted through all the possibilities. What he heard, the obvious moans and voices, another one of Keith's "friends"? Keith had forgotten the little red bell on the door, did that mean he could go in? He thought Keith was done with all the reckless sex, wasn't he? Could it be James again?

He knew James and him broke up a month ago, but Lance had this suspicion. It was the type of suspicious that gripped Lance's gut because the worst possibility, he knew, had just come true. It was the type of suspicion that brought a denial. He tried to persuade himself all the reasons why it might not be James. Keith hated James. They broke up on messy terms and left things unresolved. Keith was smarter then to get back together with that asshole, right? Right? 

Fuck, but James was James. It was evident what type of relationship they had from the beginning. James would play with Keith, he would pretend he wasn't interested and ignore him, but then on a late night he would reel Keith in and hook up. Keith would think it finally happened, he finally was with the one and only James, only to be struck with the harsh reality that James wasn't that great of a guy. James would break up with him about a week later, with the excuse he was bored and and not interested. Ya it sucked, it hurt Keith and the cycle would repeat itself, it would hurt Keith again and again and again. It was dumb how he would keep falling for the same arrogant asshole, but Lance kinda understood. He understood what it was like to want someone even if you felt you shouldn't, even if you felt it was unrequited. Even if you felt all odds were against you and in the end you would go crashing down. Lance got that more than he liked to admit.

He waited outside. Lance sat on the ground and waited. What else could he do? There was a pointlessness to it all. Maybe the fact was that he couldn't change shit and he shouldnt try to.

All the thoughts of Keith kept running through his mind like a fever dream. Keith had these pretty eyes that were the color of violet flowers. The slant of his jaw. The lips of a greek god. The tattoos of an artist. Keith was almost perfect, but he wasn't just quite. He lacked the one thing Lance wanted the most.

Lance drifted into a daze as he waited. He slept lightly and barely could remember what he dreamt. But there was an image that burned in the back of his mind. It was hard to recall exactly what had happened in the visual, but it was dark and black. And Keith was there. He was falling into the blackness and Lance tried to reach out to him, he outstretched his arm and reached into the black abyss only to watch Keith fall further down the infinite hole. 

There was a pointlessness to his situation that Lance couldn't help but feel. He felt his futile efforts go to waste. He felt his trivial words drain down the gutter with his fantasy. 

There was nothing more he could do. 

He let Keith fall down the black hole. But it was funny because to some extent, and Lance knew this, Keith wanted it. Keith had somehow, without audible words, he told Lance he wanted to fall and Lance didn't have to pull him back out. Keith had transcended the physical world and had somehow told Lance that it was okay. He was okay.

It was lie. Lance didn't really understand, he didn't know what to think of all of it.

His dream ended when the Keith from the real world flung open the door and James had left in his motorcycle. Ya, Lance's suspicions were spot on, the fuck boy James was back, but that type of suspicion was always spot on.

Keith said something, muttered some words of apology and guilt that merely passed through Lance's ears. Lance weakly smiled, really with such little effort. He could feel the blueness overwhelm him and Keith could see it as well.

"Hey," he had stopped Lance in his tracks, putting an arm on his shoulder, holding him back for a moment, "tell me what's wrong."

"It's nothing, alright? Don't worry 'bout me, I'm alright." There was a sense of sincerity in his tone, but Lance's words were dishonest. The sincerity, however, that was his mere attempt to be convincing. He was convincing Keith, sure, but he was feeding the deep hole of his own denial. And it worked. Suppress. Forget. Move on. That was the game of denial, right? Lance knew that, he was pretty damn good at that.

Keith looked at him with that same expression. Head tilted to the side. Mouth agape. Eyes wide open and looking for something Lance wasn't going to give him.

"Remember," Lance playfully teased, "I told you not to look at me like that, I'm straight"

Keith closed his eyes and shook his head, "Ya, okay dumbass, you're fine. I won't worry about you."

They both went inside. Lance was pretty quiet, Keith was asleep. Lance couldn't help but stay wide-awake. He didn't want to keep dreaming. He didn't like his dreams. 

.  
.  
.

The next morning he replied to redsamurai. He really just wanted to rant, to get out all of his repressed emotions because hell, redsamurai wasn't going to tell anyone.

redsamurai: I think I've fucked up my life. Seriously. Send help.

cubanmotherfucker: Looks like were stuck in the same boat. What happened?

It took a little, but he always replied fairly quickly, he replied right when he saw the text.

redsamurai: Fuck, I haven't really told you this so you gotta promise to be chill okay?

cubanmotherfucker: dumbass, I don't know you, you could say whatever the fuck you wanted and I wouldn't care.

redsamurai: alright well you should know I'm gay before I tell you the next part.

cubanmotherfucker: my dude, anyone could tell that from a mile away, it's chill, now what the fuck happened?

redsamurai: haha ya I am pretty blunt about it aren't I? Anyways I'm going to be starting college in about a month and I'm moving to California. But my current boyfriend said I should move in with him and go to a school nearby... And I love him but this school in California is really good ya know? But we've been together for like two years and I really do like him but I'm not sure what to do :/

cubanmotherfucker: I get that you're in a committed relationship, but this school, it seems like you really want to go there. Idk who your bf is but if he really cares, I think he'd support your decision. 

redsamurai: I really do want to go to California 

cubanmotherfucker: then you should go, it's your whole fucking life in front of you, don't regret not going

redsamurai: ya, thanks I really needed someone else to tell me that besides myself. So how about you, what's on your mind?

cubanmotherfucker: roommates an asshole, well partially one. Listen when you live in a dorm DO NOT bring your hookups into the dorm over and over again. It's seriously annoying okay?

redsamurai: well I'm still with my current bf but I guess I'll make sure not to do that, why is it so annoying?

cubanmotherfucker: you got to trust me on this one, my roommate was with someone pretty late last night in our dorm and it sucked, it's been happening for a while now and I can't help but feel so irritated ya know?

redsamurai: damn I didn't know that was such an annoying thing, thanks for warning me about it or else I might have been one of those people

cubanmotherfucker: ya stay classy my man and don't annoy your future roommate, anyways I gtg class is starting, ciao

redsamurai: adios

Lance tucked his phone away. This redsamurai guy, he and Lance had been texting for a few weeks now. It was silly because Lance knew this guy was gay, that was obvious, but he didn't know he was in a relationship... He began to question what they were doing. Why did he keep texting Lance and why did Lance keep replying? That was how it worked after all, but the fact that he was in a relationship meant there really wasn't anything between them. It meant Lance wasn't allowed to start anything between them.

.  
.  
.

Lance didn't want to go to his dorm that night, in fact he resented going back there and avoided it as much as he could. He couldn't stand seeing Keith and James together again, he had a feeling they would be together again. Instead he wandered around the campus. He was alone. It was pretty cold and threw his hoodie over his head. He wanted to go get his skateboard and practice a little bit, but it was back at his room. He thought about texting Hunk or Pidge to join him, but he didn't want to bother them. No, that was a lie, he was the one who didn't want to be bothered.

Lance remembers that night was vague and fuzzy and he could feel himself catching a fever and he could feel a wave of homesickness wash over him.

He missed Cuba. There nothing more to say. He wanted to feel the rays of the sun kiss his neck and tan his skin. The blue ocean waves that would devour him and how he would let his ankles sink in the sand. Blues skies and rainy days, he missed both of them. Lance thought about the puddles he would splash in, jumping in his rain boots. He thought about the first time he rode his bike all alone, the first time he kissed a girl. The jacket his mom gave him that he wore for years and years and how upset he was when he lost it. He was scared his mom would be mad, but she was anything but mad, instead she said he would need a new one. And she bought him a new one.

He missed the time of his life where he was had everything he wanted, well, when he was content with what he had. Maybe back in Cuba, he thought, he would have everything he wanted. Maybe he would have what he's missing now.

He was going to sit at the fountain but there sat Keith, he was already sitting there. For a few moments, Lance admired. Keith had one leg tucked close to his chest and the other hung over the edge of the fountain. One hand casually held a drink to his mouth and the other kept him upright and stable. His baggy sweatshirt folded into many different bends and furrows, and he had his sleeves rolled up to his elbow, adding to overall mood of his pose. His black plants comfortably shaped his legs. He wore ankle high converse. As expected. He was sort of perfect in a fucked up way.

Then Lance did something with an immense amount of courage that he never expected from himself. He strutted over to the fountain and took the open seat next to Keith, disrupting the loneliness that seemed to have consumed him. Lance wondered, he wondered why Keith wasn't with James.

Keith didn't even look at him, thankfully for Lance, he couldn't stand it when he did.

Lance then felt the frustration building up in his mind overwhelm him and release in one statement, "So, what happened to your fuck buddy James? Did the asshole finally dump you for the twentieth time or are you never going to learn?" 

The inflection was a little harsher, a little more demanding and jealous than Lance had meant, but he still had so much pent up anger.

Keith was clearly stunned by that comment, his eyes widened, shocked by the words that left Lance's mouth, but he still avoided looking at him. Keith took a moment to process what Lance had said. He lips parted, grasping for words to say, but he was merely baffled and a perplexed expression covered his face.

"Lance... Who the fuck is James?"

Lance wasn't in the mood to play dumb. No more fucking games, he was confronting Keith and he wasn't going to shy away, "C'mon Keith, it's not like you were hiding him! You fucking brought him to the dorm every night for the past month"

Keith shook his head and kneaded his eyebrows, searching in his memory, his thoughts, for a guy named James, "Lance," he jetted his eyes directly at Lance's, "I've only met a James once last month. But I've never brought him to the dorm. I wouldn't do that to you."

Lance's head began to spin. Keith did bring James to the dorm, that wasn't made up. It happened. How could he imagine it all?

"Dude, don't pretend it didn't happen, I'm not mad. It's just, he was sort of an asshole to you."

What confused Lance the most was Keith didn't seem like he was trying to deny it, it seemed like Keith genuinely couldn't remember who this James guy was. It seemed like James never happened.

"I'm sorry, I think you're confusing me with someone else. You feel okay Lance?"

Lance nodded slowly and took a minute to understand what had happened.

"Keith, you said you met James once right? Why have you never brought him back to the dorm?"

"C'mon Lance, that would be annoying as all hell. An online friend told me he had a roommate that brought fuck buddies to the dorm, he said he hated it. I wouldn't do that to you."

"I- holy fuck- I have to go."

Fuck. Holy fuck. Lance suddenly stood up and began to run back to the dorm. He ran back to the dorm. He could hear Keith calling to him, asking him what the hell was happening, but Lance kept running. All the pieces began to come together, it was all beginning to make sense. It was absolutely absurd but it made sense.

A fucking whole month of his life had been replaced with completely different events, a completely different timeline. James and Keith never happened. Keith never brought back James to the dorm. Lance never experienced that shitty month of his life. He remembered it full well, but he never experienced it. It never happened.

The redsamurai was Keith. He was texting Keith's past self. Lance thought about it, it was insane and absurd, but if present Kieth was being honest, he truly didn't remember James and if he did have an online friend, then he had to be the redsamurai.

Lance froze at the dorm. The little red bell that Keith used to signal Lance to not to come in, was gone. The little red bell that was either on the door knob or on the ground outside was gone.

Keith was the only one who used that bell because of James, and now James was gone and now the bell was gone.

Lance just changed the past. He just fucking indirectly time traveled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I truly appreciate! Also I love feedback so let me know what you guys think! Thanks so much :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it took so long to write this new chapter, I've been busy with finals and haven't been in the mood to write for a while, however I finally got it done! I hope this chapter leaves you in suspense and maybe will be a surprise?? Let me know what you guys think and thank you so much for reading this far :p

"Why the fuck did you run here?" Keith tilted his head with a puzzled look.

Lance almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. He could never explain to anyone what he just experienced, he barely understood it himself.

He ran back to look for the bell, but now he was sitting in front of the door like a dumbass waiting for Keith to arrive.

"Just let me in, okay? I forgot my keys." It was true, he always left his keys inside the house

Keith smirked, and Lance could see a spark of light flicker in his eyes, "Hmm, so you ran here very hurriedly, you forgot your keys and you won't talk... I think you should tell me what's going on"

Lance rolled his eyes, he tried to be annoyed but he honestly couldn't be, "just open the door asshole."

"No," Keith had a stupid grin spread across his face as he took a seat on the ground right next to Lance, "talk."

It was hard to think of an excuse that wasn't time travel related, because Lance knew Keith would never fall for something as dumb as that. He wouldn't believe it and frankly Lance wasn't even sure if he did.

"I-uh- it's kinda personal, so lets just leave it at that."

Lance felt his cheeks become warm as he immediately looked down. Why was he so bad at this?

"Personal? What, like family issues? Girlfriend problems?" Keith now seemed more perplexed than earlier, "I don't get how personal issues caused you to suddenly run here in the middle of our conversation"

"..."

"Is it Lea? No. It can't be."

Lance should've rolled with the Lea thing and make up a lie, but he was speechless. His whole mind went blank. And all he could think about was how his cheeks were so hot.

"Was it something I said? God tell me what I said... I didn't mean it, whatever it was."

Lance laughed a little bit, "c'mon man, no, it has nothing to do with you!"

Keith glared at him, "motherfucker, just tell me what I said... Oh! James! It was about James wasn't it?"

Lance lightly pushed him playfully on the arm eliciting a shocked stare from Keith. Maybe he shouldn't have pushed him like that.

"shut up already, I said your fine. You're off the hook? You didn't say anything? Got it?"

Keith was a little frazzled for a second, he didn't really expect that playful push, it might have been a little much coming from Lance, who was a proclaimed "straight" dude. But Lance sorta just did it, he felt like it. And Lance did whatever he felt like doing, that was all.

"Ya, got it. So you're really not gonna tell me huh?"

Lance finally looked him straight in the eyes, "Why you wanna know so bad, mullet?"

Keith turned his eyes away... Were his cheeks red?

"I said don't look at me like that, remember?" Keith mumbled and put a hand up to his face.

Keith quickly stood and straightened out his clothes. He unlocked the door pretty fast, before Lance even had the chance to stand.

"Ladies first," Keith offered.

"Fuck off," Lance went inside and looked around a little more near the door. There was no bell inside either, as he suspected. The damn thing really just disappeared huh? The bell and James, both just gone.

.  
.  
.

A week had passed.

Lance couldn't describe what happened a week later, Lance couldn't even bare to think about what had occured and how the events unfolded because he frankly didn't know a single goddamn thing. 

His breath was heavy, he felt his sticky skin attach to his clothes from sweat. There was a moment of pure horror and fear. He was frozen in a lapse of time where nothing made sense. The world turned upside down and he couldn't even recall his own name.

The limp body on the ground, the pale skin and black hair, he knew it all too well. Keith. 

No. Lance thought, no, he thought, no, he thought. He couldn't inhale, he couldn't even move a muscle because if he moved it would be real. If he moved, he would be moving on. How could he ever move on? He was paralyzed in a moment of pure unbelievable shock. The hair stood up on the back of his neck and his eyes widened when he finally understood what the hell was happening.

The ambulance came. It was all a disastrous blur. Everything seemed to blend in together, nothing had color. It was a blue sky, but it seemed gray. The pink flowers appeared to wilt in the dirt. The green trees and umber wood blended into an ugly brown.

He focused on anything but Keith. He kept looking at the plain objects around him.

Medics were rushing past Lance, running to Keith's side. One asked Lance something... He asked him if he was okay, if he knew what happened, if he was a witness. 

If he was a witness. 

That word. Witness. 

Lance didn't even realize until moments later. Keith was murdered. He was gone and someone had been the cause. Then he allowed himself to look. Keith's clothes were ripped, one of his cheeks were rawly cut. There was a gigantic wound oozing with blood coming from his chest. There was a pool of red. It was a vibrant red, the most intense color Lance had ever seen. It poured out of Keith, all the color, all the warmth, all the hope and dreams seemed to drain out of the stab wound. There was no more to think about. Lance could think how it was over, his friend's life was ended, his plans to continue their relationship, to figure out whatever the hell he felt for him. But it didn't even matter anymore. Lance was so small now. The world was so big. Keith was huge. Lance was so small.

But the blood kept draining out of him. It was now permanently imprinted in his mind, the terrible violence that had been done to his friend, to his roommate, to some guy he cared about.

He was fucking murdered and Lance wasn't even there to try and save him. He wasn't even close enough to witness a goddamn thing. 

He felt faint, but he couldn't move. He wanted to pass out, to release him from his emotions and feelings, he couldn't deal with the overwhelming pain. He couldn't cope with anything. He didn't even feel alive himself. A numbness began to rise in his toes, swallowing his legs and creeping into his fingertips until it engulfed his whole body. He was just as gone as Keith. But he was alive to feel it, to feel the emptiness and the permanence of losing himself. 

Because that was when Lance lost himself. Because that was when he couldn't feel anymore. Because that was when he was didn't want to be anything anymore.

It had been maybe a minute. He finally let go of his breath. He finally let time continue. Time ticked. He still struggling, shakily inhaling, coughing through the lump in his throat. He choked, barely able to force the air out of his lungs.

He continued to breathe and breathe and breathe until it was finally over.

The ambulance had taken Keith away.

Lance was too late.

It felt over.

.  
.  
.

There had been so much going through Lance's mind, and time felt like it was collapsing in on itself. He had been dealing with anger and sadness and fear, but more than anything he had a spark of hope that engulfed his heart. He kept hoping, he kept dreaming that he could save him. Sometimes he would dream Keith was falling. He was slowly, barely drifting away into an abyss. He would look up at Lance, with big innocent eyes. Lance would reach out, stretching his arm all the way to his fingertips, only to meet a glass wall. A perfectly clear glass wall. Keith would give a faint nod, he would look at Lance and tell him it's okay. He would tell him to let go. Lance would be yelling things, he would be screaming, banging on the glass, trying to break through. Keith would curl up into a little ball and keep falling. He would be consumed by darkness. Lance would collapse on the ground. He would feel utterly broken. He would feel just as gone as Keith. He would wake up in cold shakes. He would sometimes wake up with wet eyes, terrified. He would wake up dead.

Some days he would imagine what his life could have been. He would dream of a non-existent future. A big open ocean- salty water warmed by the sun. He would imagine that he's splashing water with his toes and kicking sand at the bottom of the ocean. Keith would be there too. He would be grinning, and he would be laughing. There would be a silent communication between the two of them, an implied conversation that confirmed how each one of them felt. That's what the Cuban sun did to them, it gave them the ability to feel okay, to feel loved and spontaneous and okay. Lance would have flirtatiously pulled Keith under a wave, allowing the two of them to drown in an infinite ocean. Then they would be pushed back up to the surface to simply breathe. Keith would dunk Lance in the water, yell at him for almost drowning the two of them. But it would be alright. They would be so close, inches away from each other. Lance almost touched him; he was so close to touching him. Why couldn't he touch him? Then night would fall upon Cuba, it would fall upon the world around them. They would lay in the sand, they would talk. They would laugh. Lance would be scared, his heart beating, but he would be confident. He would lean over Keith, he would whisper something in his ear. But before he had the chance to touch him, to kiss him, to feel him, Keith would say 'we're not in Cuba. I'm dead.' And the dream would end.

It was strange how much more alive Lance felt in his dreams than in real life. He had not a clue how to feel when he was alive, but it seemed his emotions would switch on when he slept. The weight would lift off of himself when he was unconscious. The guilt would leave, but never permanently, when he dreamed.

In a moment of dread, of fear and emptiness he remembers texting redsamurai.

cubanmotherfucker: I wish I could have been there 

redsamurai: what could you have done?

cubanmotherfucker: I could have saved him

redsamurai: how?

cubanmotherfucker: I would have found a way

redsamurai: you don't know that, don't blame yourself

cubanmotherfucker: I don't know, I feel like I could have if I was there

redsamurai: you can't change shit, stop pretending you can, it's okay, you're okay. Shit happens, ya know?

cubanmotherfucker: ya, right, sorry

redsamurai: I'm worried about you, keep me updated, okay?

cubanmotherfucker: okay

redsamurai: promise me you'll keep texting me

cubanmotherfucker: ya, I promise

He felt Keith through him, through his past self. Texting him over and over again. He changed the past once, he somehow got rid of James. He wasn't sure if he could do it again- how he could do it again. But he had to try didn't he? No one would believe him, it was absurd. It was crazy and insane and probably wouldn't even work, but maybe. Maybe. That was all he needed. Maybe.

He needed to change the irreversible.

He needed to save him.

He needed to save himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support!! Any predictions for what will happen, any suggestions? Let me know! Thxxx <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm on winter break so I'm able to write a lot more :)) Thanks for the support and hope you enjoy <3

Lance had been trying, he had become restless as he fruitlessly messaged redsamurai over and over again, hoping his texts would somehow bring Keith back, praying he could reverse the past. He was growing tired of it, and he was running out of time. If the redsamurai was Keith's past self, and he soon caught up to Keith's death day, then he would die as well. Then he couldn't even text redsamurai. And all would be lost, all would be pointless. There was so much he wanted to do, but he didn't know how.

He was in his bed, the room was dark, he sat there thinking, trying to conjure up the right text that could save Keith. He had already told redsamurai so many things not to do, where not to go, who not to talk to. He'd tried so hard to change something, to make a bump in the linear time map. But Keith was still dead. He remembered telling redsamurai not to go to the college in California, to stay where he was and never leave. Lance was willing to never meet Keith if it meant he was still alive. But Keith was still dead, people still knew about his death. Nothing changed. 

Lance was starting to believe he was loosing it. Did he even time travel the first time? Did his text even change shit? It was absurd that he was clinging to this small hope that his texts could time travel, hell he probably only believed it because it gave him hope, a reason to keep going, to wake up in the mornings.

He fell into a dark sleep that night. It was the same dream he always had, the same dream that was now becoming a night terror. It was strange because he was beginning to lucid dream, he felt conscious, he felt awake, and yet he realized it wasn't real.

Sometimes his skin would burn. It would hurt so much it felt like it was melting. His stomach felt like a hole sometimes, like a piece of himself was missing. Sometimes his heart would stop beating. He could feel the rhythm give up, and his breath would become lost. He fingertips and toes would become numb, his back would ache. This would only happen when he dreamt so hard he couldn't tell when he was awake. He hated it, but it gave him something to feel, something to experience. Something that was real. 

In his night illusions, he would watch Keith fall into the black abyss through a glass wall. Lance began to stand on the glass, he would lay on the glass and press his face against the cold pane, wishing to get closer to Keith. He would wish every night and he would keep wishing. He would yell, too. He would yell at God, he would yell at Keith, but he usually yelled at himself. He screamed at himself for not saving Keith, he cried that he couldn't change the past, he whined when Keith fell further into the abyss. It happened every night. It was like a circular train track and he was riding the tracks to hell. He kept reliving the same god-damned experience until his body was physically in pain. 

One night Keith smiled at him from below. Keith mouthed some words of nothing- Lance couldn't hear a single thing. Keith kept smiling and it was the one of those smiles that Lance had carved into his brain. It was one of those smiles that happened when nothing was okay, but you had to pretend you were okay. Except, Keith appeared genuinely fine, he seemed to be more fine than Lance ever was. Lance remembers that smile because he smiled back.

The glass shattered. Lance began to plunge downward, spiraling out of control. He reached out his hands, spreading them to gain some sort of balance, to catch on to something. Fragments of glass caught his skin and cut his palms. He could feel a cold emptiness suck the warmth from his hands and ears. Sound no longer existed, silence no longer existed. The abyss had sucked the life out of everything he heard, everything he felt, everything he saw.

He kept spinning, endlessly falling into the hole, no longer attached to earth, to the planet, now merely a figment of his own imagination.

His lungs were deflated, deprived of oxygen, he began gasping for air in an airless hole. All he could see was nothing. He tried to say something, anything, but his voice had been devoured by the giant vacuum of space. His hands. He put his hands in front of his face, flexing his fingers. He could feel the muscles contract. He could feel. He was alive.

He woke up.

He woke up and he was okay. He woke up and Keith was okay. He woke up and Keith was sleeping on the bed across from him. 

He did it.

"Keith?" He whispered as he slowly pushed himself off the the bed and lightly walked across the floor.

"Keith?" 

Was it real?

Keith stirred, moving his head to the other side of the bed. He seemed so quiet. He seemed so peaceful. Lance let go of his breath. He let Keith be.

He didn't go back to sleep that night, he was afraid he'd ruin it, afraid he'd jump to another time. 

He checked his phone. It was the morning of Keith's death day. That evening, at 5:13, that's when it would happen. He didn't know what to do, but he wouldn't leave Keith's side.

Just stay with him, Lance thought, don't let him out of your sight. He's your responsibility now. 

He admired Keith for a while. He had pretty lips, they were parted slightly as he slept. His eyelashes were long, and they brushed his cheeks. His skin was so pale and soft, but his hair was darker then the night. He was so pretty, almost dainty. But Lance knew Keith. When he woke up, he would turn into an edge Lord. He had these ear piercings that covered the side of his ear. He had a tattoo that crept up his neck and down his arms, curving around his biceps. Lance never saw the rest of the ink, but he imagined there were more black patterns on his chest, on his back, around his shoulder blades. Fuck. Keith was anything but dainty. But he slept so quietly and still, he slept so soundly and safe. He seemed vulnerable to the open world. 

Lance almost wanted to put another blanket over him, to hide him, keep him for himself. But he refrained himself. He went back to his bed.

.  
.  
.

He didn't know how or when, but he had fallen back asleep, only for an hour or so. It felt more like he blacked out. Like he simply skipped an hour of his life. Keith was gone. At first he was scared that he dreamt it, that Keith never came back, but his phone said only an hour had passed... Where the hell did he go? It was 8 a.m. in the morning, Lance was barely awake, where would Keith be going? He had to find him, he couldn't risk anything.

He hurriedly grabbed his jacket off a chair and swung it over his shoulder. Then picked up his skateboard, running out the door. He figured Keith had to be around the campus somewhere... There was no where else he would go. He hopped on his board, pushing himself further, further, faster, harder. He kept skating around the campus, hoping to catch a glimpse of Keith's head somewhere on the grounds. 

Lance could feel himself become worried, he could feel his last ounce of hope slip out of his fingers. He had to find him.

"Lea!" He saw the familiar face and jumped on it, he was getting desperate. He was willing to ask anyone.

She turned her head over her shoulder, looking for whoever called her.

"Hey," Lance jumped off the board and kicked it up into his hand, "I'm looking for Keith. Have you seen him? I don't know where he went, I'm so worried, please Lea." He sputtered out the words faster than he could process. She stared blankly at him.

"I- um..." She seemed a little frazzled. He honestly hadn't left things on great terms with her, she was probably expecting him to say something different, "I don't know Lance, why the hell should I care?"

He looked firmly at her, he could feel her stare drilling a hole into his eyes, "I don't have time for this, have you seen him or not?" He was harsh. He was intense, it startled her.

"Ya, ya I saw him. He was at the library, doing research or something."

"Thanks," he pushed past her and faintly heard her yell a 'hey!' from behind him. He knew he was abrupt, but he didn't have time. He had to find Keith.

When Lance reached the library, he bust inside without a single fuck to give. He began calling out Keith's name, running through isles of books, getting strange looks from people around him. It was all in the name of love- or whatever the fuck he felt- after all.

C'mon, he thought, c'mon. He peered through an open gap of books on a shelf, looking at a black haired man... It wasn't Keith. The man didn't have the recognizable tattoos. Lance punched his fist into the wall next to him. Fuck. 

Quickly, he ran to the counter, asking a kind, ancient looking librarian for help.

"Keith," Lance spit out, "where is he?"

She simply shook her head in concern, "dear, please calm down. You're making quite a ruckus."

C'mon grandma. He almost said that, but instead it came out as, "Right, sorry, but Keith: dark hair, tattoos, ear piercings, have you seen him?"

She shook her head again: useless. But Lance had a little bit of determination. He finally set his foot outside of the library. Where next? He looked around the campus, letting his eyes guide him. Where the fuck does a gay edge lord go to at 8 in the morning? 

Lance headed to the staple of the campus, the monument that every single person gravitated to. He went to the water fountain. He sat on the edge of the fountain, looking down in the water at the pennies and nickels that had been thrown into the water. He dunked his hand deep into the cold water and seized a coin. He squeezed his eyes shut, tighter than he ever has before. C'mon Keith. He flipped the penny back in the fountain.

Now time was just being wasted, and Lance knew it. It was 9 a.m. and he had no idea where to look next. So, he basically went on a spree.

It was insane where Lance searched for the next two hours: their dorm, the hallways, the little corner that Keith liked to hide at, the park nearby, as many of Keith's classrooms as he could remember (he even asked the professors if they knew where the hell Keith went), but not a single clue had been discovered. It seemed like Keith disappeared somewhere off the charts, somewhere far. But Lance knew, at the cursed hour, 5:13, Keith would be outside of their dorm dead. 

Lance kicked his skateboard harshly, sending it cartwheeling over the concrete. 

"Fucking Hell," he roared, throwing his jacket onto the ground. 

There was a pointlessness to it all, Lance could feel his meaningless actions go to waste. But, what didn't make sense is why Lance was given a second chance to fix things in the first place. Was this some sort of game? Was God testing him? Who was fucking with him? If all his actions were futile, then why was he given another chance to save Keith? He rubbed his eyes and face, then he shut his eyelids and covered his ears. Peace and quiet was all he wanted, he wanted to get away from all of this nonsense. At some points he forgot what he was doing. 

It was getting late. It was 3:00. 3:07 3:12. 3:19.

Lance was back at the dorm. He sat down on the tiny porch outside. He waited. It didn't make sense why he was waiting when he should be doing something. But he tried doing. Doing didn't work. Lance's palms were numb and clammy. His lips were cracked. It was freezing.

3:30. Lance moaned, he was so tired.

He already called Keith. He'd been calling him all day. There was no fucking response- it always went straight to voicemail. His texts? Left on delivered. He called anyone who knew Keith, he sent out mass texts. No one knew where the hell Keith was.

It was bizarre. Truly. And Lance felt it was intentional, that someone was hiding Keith, that someone was holding him against his will. None of it made sense, but Keith was murdered. And whoever murdered him probably captured him as well.

5:10. Almost time... Keith was no where to be found. But this was it wasn't it? This is where Lance found him last time. This was where Lance found him dead.

There was a scream. A few blocks away maybe.

Lance dropped everything, he began sprinting, almost tripping over his own feet, but for the life of him he ran towards the scream. There was a muffled yell. Lance was getting closer. He felt his skin burn, his muscles were aching, every inch of his physical body was trying to stop him. Just a little closer. 

There was a whimper, it was soft and almost inaudible. But lance heard it. He stopped in his tracks, then peered around the corner behind him. One step closer and closer and closer.

Keith. Alive. But dying. Almost dead. 

Where the hell did all of his time go? Where did his second chance go? He knelt on the ground next to Keith's body.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's gonna be alright, okay? Hang in there, okay?" Lance had already called the ambulance. They were on their way.

"Keith, hey, stay awake for me." His eyelashes were fluttering, hesitating between open and closed. Lance caressed his face, he let him lay on his lap, both of them in the middle of nowhere on the ground as a pool of blood surrounded them. 

Lance felt an insane burning. It spread throughout his fingernails and the tip of his nose. It set his lungs on fire. Every breath of oxygen felt like poison.

"Who did this to you?" Lance demanded. A wave of heat and anger rose in his cheeks.

Keith lifted a hand, he reached it forwards and gave a small smile- the same exact smile Lance saw in his dreams, the same one that broke every ounce of Lance's heart. Keith gently touched Lance's chest, barely putting his fingertips to Lance's sweater. 

"C'mon" Lance whined, desperately, his eyes burned more than his lungs, "tell me, c'mon talk to me"

Keith parted his lips, "It doesn't matter." His whole body moved with every breath he took. In and out. In and out. He was barely able to inhale. A vivid red covered Lance's hands, it spread to Keith's cheeks as Lance caressed his face. 

"Tell me!" Lance's voice cracked, he lightly pounded a fist onto Keith's shoulder in frustration, "just fucking tell me." His vision became blurry, he couldn't see anything, he blinked as a tear fell onto Keith's face.

Keith grabbed Lance's sweater with whatever effort he could expend, "Don't Lance."

"Motherfucker" he muttered under his breath.

"I'm okay." Keith closed his eyes finally. 

The ambulance arrived. Nothing could be done, nothing.

It was the same shit all over again. It was the same process as before, but now Lance had felt Keith leave. He touched his blood and he shared his sorrow. He spent the last few moments with him before he passed. Hell, if this was all a nightmare, he'd rather be dead.

Lance felt empty. He fucking blew it all. He looked up at the sky, at the gray clouds. The sun was hidden behind a great white blanket. He looked down. The color red stained his jeans and his sleeves. 

He laid his own body on the concrete- the same position Keith was in. Now it was over. Now Lance was gone. His eyes were closed and he listened to the sound of his heartbeat. He waited until he began to dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thx so much for reading, let me know what you guys think!! :p


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy, this is sorta a shorter chapter, a little bit because I was tired and wanted to finish it up, but mostly because I felt like it should be short. Anyways hope you enjoy!! <3

redsamurai: sometimes I feel strange

cubanmotherfucker: strange how?

redsamurai: sometimes I feel like the world might implode on itself and I'll be engulfed in a giant black hole...

redsamurai: I had a dream last night

redsamurai: you were in it

redsamurai: I was falling

redsamurai: but you caught me

cubanmotherfucker: hmm weird

redsamurai: right? There was this glass wall too. You were on top of it looking down at me. You kept yelling something. Then the glass broke and you caught me.

redsamurai: well actually that's a lie, you didn't catch me. I woke up before you could, but I'd like to think that's what happened.

cubanmotherfucker: I doubt I did, I probably just fell along with you 

redsamurai: then we'd both be dead

cubanmotherfucker: yeah

.  
.  
.

It took a little bit of coaxing himself, convincing himself he should figure out what the hell is happening to him, but Lance finally decided to talk to someone about it. 

Pidge gave him a weird head tilt, "and what suddenly prompted your interest in time travel Einstein?"

"Dunno," Lance shrugged nonchalantly, "just thought it would be fun to learn something nerdy"

"Rigghht," Pidge raised an eyebrow but went along with Lance anyways, probably just for the hell of it. "Well, I assume you know the string theory?"

"Ah yes, the theory of strings..."

Pidge facepalmed, "So should I assume you don't know the string theory?"

"Correct"

"Alright," they pulled out a few pieces of string and held them all together in one straight long line, "I really didn't think I was going to have to do this, but here it goes.

Time travel has a few issues. First off, the grandfather paradox. If you go back in time and kill your grandfather, then your father can't be born then you can't be born. Then how were you ever alive to time travel in the first place? See, doesn't make sense. Another one is Hitler's murder paradox. Your goal for time traveling is to kill Hitler, and let's say you somehow succeed and your goal is fulfilled. But then you lose your reason for ever time traveling in the first place. Again, it doesn't make sense.

This is where the string theory comes in. Let's say every time you change the past, even a little bit, you form a parallel universe," Pidge took the string and began to pull them apart into three separate pieces, each one lined up next to each other, "there could be millions of different worlds, you could do anything. There could be worlds where you don't exist, ones where your dead, ones where the world doesn't exist. Basically endless possibilities. Of course, this is only from what I know."

Lance began thinking, he thought of what happened between him and Keith... How he wasn't able to save him, "Okay, hypothetically, and just go along with it, what if you time travel but nothing happens? And you keep trying to change shit, but nothing happens. And so your stuck on a neverending loop and nothing ever fucking happens"

Pidge's eyebrows were furrowed, "I guess you're saying the past can't be manipulated even with the ability of time travel. Well, my grandfather was really into time travel himself. He used to have have his own version of string theory. He would say that there can only be another universe if the change is drastic enough. For instance, if someone died, but simply going to the past won't do anything... Something truly impactful needs to happen, ya know?"

Lance nodded. So he wasn't trying hard enough? 

"What if you never figure out what needs to be done?"

"Oh c'mon Lance, it's not like you have this issue."

"Ya, of course, but hypothetically... What if you're stuck reliving the past because your never able to be impactful enough?"

"I guess you'd just be on a neverending loop, until you die that is."

.  
.  
.

Lance went back to the same spot Keith had died. The second time he died. It was nearly the same as the first time, but yet it was different. The stab was the same, the blood was the same, Keith looked the same. But it happened at a different area and this time Lance was closer to saving him. There was so much Lance was worried about. What if he is never able to time travel again? What if he can but Keith keeps slipping away from him? What if everything he did was pointless? But Lance tried not to be caught up in the negativity. He needed to see things with a clear mind, without all the terrible clouds of desperation. God, he was becoming so obsessed wasn't he? But he had no other choice. He had to care, he couldn't give up even if it meant an eternity of struggling. He could succeed. He could. Couldn't he?

But he was scared he would give up. He was terrified one day he'd have enough of trying to save Keith.

The blood was gone. It had just been a day. Somebody probably washed off Keith's blood, they washed away the last physical stain he left on the world. Lance stared. He could still see it, the vibrant red that soaked the ground, that spread and tainted his sleeves and his jeans. He could smell it; it was metallic, like iron. But now there was also the scent of rain. That thick scent that lingers for a day after a heavy storm. Lance could smell it in the crisp oxygen as he inhaled

In Cuba it would rain all the time. There would constantly be puddles and wet asphalt and the sand at the beach would be soaked. He would build in the muddy sand sometimes. Sometimes him and his brother Marco would swim in the ocean as it rained, they would even stay in during a thunderstorm. Not for long. But for a little while they would listen to the booms of thunder as they floated in the depths of the ocean. It was frightening. But it was alive. Lance felt alive.

"Hey," he felt a hand on his shoulder. Hunks voice was one of a kind, it was deep and soothing. "Stop staring, seriously man, you gotta look away at some point."

Lance felt his head become heavy, he didn't want to look away. He didn't want to forget. 

"Talk to me man," Hunk urged.

Keith's red blood. He could imagine it still on the concrete. He could imagine Keith's eyelashes fluttering shut. He could see his lips barely parted. He could feel his breath every time he would shakily inhale and exhale.

"Talk."

His eyes were stinging as they became wet. The ground was white. The blood had been cleaned away. It was gone.

"I'm scared."

Hunk pulled him away, tearing his mind out of his thoughts. He had his hands on his shoulders and looked at him intently.

"You're fucking brave man"

"I'm terrified, I'm so terrified. I couldn't save him, I let him die. What the hell have I done?" Lance's vision was blurry and he couldn't look Hunk in the eyes anymore. He stared down at his feet.

"Fear and bravery are the same fucking thing man..."

Lance shook his head, Hunk was talking nonsense, probably to comfort him. 

"I-I could have tried harder if I wasn't so damn scared. Maybe he could still be alive."

"Do you know what courage is? Do you even know why your brave?" Hunk poked his finger on his chest, near his heart, "right here man, that's where your fear is. Your fear gives let's you have a heart. It gives you a drive. That's why your brave, because you have fear."

It was overcast. The clouds seemed to cover the sun and they dimmed the world around them. The clouds were gray, it was beginning to drizzle.

Lance tried to understand, "I guess so," he shrugged, "I just feel shitty about it."

"Ya, it was a horrific tragedy... I'm sure we all feel awful, but you at least did something. You did that man. No one else. You."

Lance nodded, this time trying to really trust Hunk's words.

"Thanks, I seriously needed that. I felt like I was growing crazy lately. Its been eating at me, ya know?"

"Your my brother. And I mean everything I said. Don't forgot it!"

Lance tightly hugged Hunk eliciting a soft grunt, but it was all in love. Hunk reciprocated and gently squeezed back. It was like Lance was looking through a new window. He hadn't moved on, but he was ready for a new perspective.

Next time he could do things better. Next time he would handcuff Keith to him if it meant keeping him by his side. Next time he would make such a difference things would be bound to change. Next time he would save Keith. He knew he could. He felt a wave of confidence overtake him. He felt ready. He wasn't worrying anymore. For the the first damn time he believed he could actually do it; he could save Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the next chapter will be more action packed and things will start happening! I'm excited to write them and have a pretty good idea for what's next!! let me know what you guys think and thanks so much for reading :p


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, finally a chapter with some well deserved Keith and Lance moments, hope you enjoy :p

He woke up from the dream-the dream that somehow teleported him to the dreaded day of Keith's death. It was strange how it worked. Every time he broke the same glass wall, he would begin to fall down this black hole, a vacuum of space, until he woke up in the past. Lance couldn't think too much about how it worked, it boggled his mind. He might start thinking he's going insane. Instead he just focused on his goal.

"Keith," softly, not too loud. He didn't want to startle him. Lance gently shook his shoulder as he lay asleep in the bed, "hey, you awake?"

Keith groaned lightly and pulled the pillow over his head, blocking his ears and eyes from the annoying stimulus. Lance got the message, but he rejected it.

He forcefully pulled the pillow off of Keith and jerked him awake.

"Fuck you" Keith squinted his eyes with hint of despite and irritation. He wasn't a morning person, maybe this was a mistake, Lance thought second guessing his plan. Ah yes, the plan that was to keep Keith in his sight all day. To make sure he stays safe. To make sure he doesn't die. Easy enough?

"I need you awake, don't fucking leave today, okay?" Lance heard his own desperation as his voice cracked. He sounded scary almost, it freaked himself out. He hovered above Keith by a few inches. Keith's eyes were wide and he seemed flustered.

He shook his head not understanding a single word, "please don't come onto me this early in the morning Lance, I mean really, I already know you're not straight!"

He felt his cheeks burn, "I- I what?" He sputtered, "it's not like that asshole, I'm not fucking into you." 

It was a little harsher than Lance meant, but Keith poked at a sensitive subject, okay?

"Relax," Keith playfully pushed Lance off of him, "I'm just teasing... God, your pride is hurt so easy."

"My pride?" Lance was getting more pissed off by the second, why the fuck was he always pissed off around this asshole? "Fuck you, I try to save your ass and instead I get your bullshit." ya... Lance immediatey regreted letting that one slide out as well. Maybe he was under a tad bit too much stress recently. Seriously. He had dealt with a lot of trauma.

"Okay, your saving me?" Keith's smirk faded away and he began to worry, "what the hell happened? What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with ME? Frankly I don't know what, but I'd be glad if you could tell me! You know what, forget it, I can't deal with this shit right now." Lance was beginning freak the fuck out and he wasn't sure why. Keith hadn't done anything... he just couldn't deal with it anymore. He honestly couldn't bare to look at Keith. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be reliving this day again. And he certainly didn't want to see Keith's dead body drain away until all that's left is a puddle of blood. And even that would get washed away.

"Hey," Keith said calmly as he sat up. It was then that he realized things were much more serious than he anticipated.

"Slow down," Keith placed a hand on his arm, pulling Lance closer until he nearly fell on top of the bed, "You look frightened, what happened?"

Lance rubbed his face in distress, "you won't believe me"

"C'mon now, I will believe-"

"You won't, okay?" Lance shuffled himself to the other side of the room and sat on his bed, "Stay here today, in the dorm. Don't leave. Okay?"

"I have class today, Lance" Keith disappointedly replied. He stared at Lance with that damned expression. Head tilted, confused, looking for something that Lance wasn't going to give him.

"For me, please," he felt so vulnerable and desperate. It was out of character, did he have any pride left? Any self respect? He felt his skin burn. Heat rose in his cheeks. God, his head was dizzy.

Keith wearily went to Lance's bed and sat beside him, Lance felt like he was examining him or something. 

Gently, he brushed a hand to Lance's forehead, "You're burning up."

Lance grabbed Keith's wrist. He wanted to pin him down, to do things to him he knew he shouldn't. He let his eyes drop to Keith's lips.

"Hey" Keith said. He definitely saw through Lance. "You're sick, you're not thinking straight. Lay down, okay?"

Lance definitely wasn't thinking straight, "don't touch me again." He dropped Keith's wrist from his grasp and leaned back into his bed.

"If you leave today," Lance began, "I think I'll die. Seriously, stay with me."

Keith leaned back into the bed next to him, "okay. I won't go anywhere."

Lance let out the oxygen he held in his lungs. That's all he wanted to hear. He just wanted to know he wasn't going anywhere.

.  
.  
.

The day went on weird. Lance couldn't tell if Keith was flirting with him or if he was just worried. He kept touching him and asking him questions-pretty personal ones. It was like he was analyzing him, or trying to understand what the hell he was thinking.

"Are you straight?" There it was. He's asked that question three times already and Lance had somehow avoided it three times. Why was he so determined on that one?

"Why mullet? Got a crush?" Lance smirked trying to change the topic by flustering him.

But Keith wasn't falling for any of it, "I don't know, you're just kind of a puzzle to me."

"A puzzle?"

"I know you like girls, but do you really? You only hook up with them, but it's never been anything serious. And don't take this the wrong way but you flirt too much with me to be straight... so are you?"

Fuck. Lance was a little cornered on that one, "I'm straight as a line," he joked.

"Oh really?" Keith furrowed his eyebrows. He seemed to not believe a single damn word Lance said. Shit.

He leaned a little bit closer, inch by inch. He steadily put a hand on Lance's neck. Their eyes were locked on one another. It was strange. Lance knew what was going to happen, he expected it, but he simply waited. He didn't do anything. It was all too real for him.

"Whoa, what are you-" before he even had the chance to refute, Keith softly brushed his lips on him, slowly at first, then more demandingly. It went on longer than any straight guy would let it.

He harshly pushed Keith off of him, "I told you. I'm fucking straight, okay?"

"Alright, sorry. I just had to know." And Keith definitely knew. Ya, judging by his hidden smile that tugged on the corners of his mouth, he knew, "and that was a pretty damn good kiss if you ask me."

"You motherfucker, you caught me off guard! I just- I just felt bad for you, okay?" Okay that certainly was not what Lance meant, but he didn't have a better excuse at the moment. It even hurt more when he saw Keith's expression. His eyes looked so damn hurt.

"Right," he said neutrally, "I Should've know that," he ruffled his hair and went to his side of the dorm. 

.  
.  
.

It had been a while. There was a lot of silence and awkward tension that neither of them were willing to break. But it really wasn't the time for that. It was 4 in the afternoon and that meant Lance had about an hour until the dreaded moment. 5:13. That's when it would happen. 

Suddenly Keith's hand was on the door knob. Lance shot up from the bed and grabbed him, pulling him away, fuck that was dramatic as all hell.

"Hey!" Keith yelled caught in surprise, "what the hell's wrong with you?"

"Don't leave." Lance softly muttered. He was becoming sick of telling him. Keith was clearly sick of hearing it. Keith jerked himself out of Lance's grasp and glared at him.

"I'm just going to get you medicine dumbass," he rebutted, "you seem even more delusional than earlier."

"No no no," Lance looked at him with pleading eyes. He felt scared again, he felt like Keith was slipping out of his grasp, "you can't leave me."

"Fine, then just come with me," he said it so obviously. He said it like Lance was an idiot for not thinking of that.

"Well," he loosened his tense shoulders and blinked a few times thinking it though, "I guess."

It may have even been safer to keep Keith away from the dorm anyways, to keep him far from that hell hole. He did die there once after all. The CVS nearby might have been one of the safest places for him. Lance became more willing to go along with it the longer he thought about it. Honestly, as long as he didn't lose sight of Keith it would all be okay, right?

The store was empty. Keith hummed as he looked at the medicine. Lance dully kicked things and poked at random objects. Then he began watching Keith. He was reading the medicine bottles, his eyes thoughtfully scanning the labels. His hair brushed his eyes. He had long sculpted fingers and a masculine but refined hand. Why was he so damn pretty to look at? Lance closed his eyes.

"Hey what the hell do you have anyways? A fever, cold, flu...?"

Lance shrugged, "probably nothing. I think I'm just stressed out or something."

Keith cocked an eyebrow at him, "you were seriously burning up earlier."

"Ya, probably just stress," Lance repeated a little more annoyed.

Keith tried to touch his forehead, like he had earlier, but Lance grasped his hand and slowly dragged it down, "don't do that anymore" he mumbled.

"What," Keith innocently tilted his head.

"Don't touch me like that."

He could almost see the little smirk on Keith's face beginning to form, but Lance quickly averted the topic.

"Come with me outside. I'm gonna walk around."

"You don't want medicine?"

"No, just need some fresh air."

They walked around a bit. It was pretty cold. Lance could see his breath make smokey clouds as he exhaled. Keith was kicking a rock as they strolled through Town Square. They both walked everywhere. Neither of them had a car since they lived at a dorm, so they either walked or biked, or skateboarded in Lance's case. The point was, they walked a lot. Yet for some reason they never just took a casual stroll together. They never just quietly ambled without a destination, just simply feeling each other's presence. It was different. Lance felt something different.

"I think I'm...." Keith's voice trailed off. But whatever left his lips seemed to have been significant. Lance swiftly glanced at him. Keith had stopped in his tracks and was staring at the ground. At his feet.

"What's wrong?"

"I-I just saw something." He seemed like a deer caught in headlights, paralyzed.

"Hm?"

"Lance, I think I might..." The fear in his eyes became evident as he looked deeply at Lance. 

The gun shot was quick. Straight through his chest. The blood was a vibrant red. He remembered it because it was the same lively color as before.

Keith collapsed on the white concrete, falling on his palms and knees. Lance had already dialed the ambulance. They were on their way.

The blood was so red. Fuck, that was all he could see. It was so goddamn red.

Keith laid still on the ground, Lance by his side comforting him. It was the same as last time. It was a repeat of last time. 

Do something. Do something.   
Lance felt himself dive into a frenzy of desperation. He covered Keith with his hands and uttered words of nothing to him. 

He leaned his body in, hunched over to cover Keith's body. He breathed the same pattern of breath as Keith. He gently rubbed his thumb to Keith's cheek, to his jaw, to his neck, till his hand reached the ground. Keith's eyes were open. He stared star struck at the constellation above him. He faintly said something. Lance couldn't seem to remember what. 

The ambulance came.

But Lance knew it was futile.

It was the same shit as before. It was the same shit as last time.

Lance went home. He waited until he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thx sm for reading, feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think! :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy guys, enjoy the chapter, it's on the happier side (sorta) lol. There's a lot of klance moments so enjoy :p

If Lance could count all the stars in the Galaxy he still wouldn't reach the number of times he's repeated that day. There were a million ways to save Keith but there were a billion ways he could die. He's seen them all. He's felt the air's corrupted oxygen, it was tainted with death. It made the world heavy. Lance would start every day the same, he would be given another chance, but making an actual impact seemed impossible. Some days, when he felt the most useless, he did nothing. He would watch it happen and hope to some omnipotent power above that there would be a difference. But it didn't matter. Keith would end up in the fate it appeared he was destined for. Maybe that was the the catch. He could try all he wanted but the outcome could never be changed, only the path.

He lost count years ago. It felt like it at least. Sometimes he thought he was in hell. That he was the one dead and this was his punishment for whatever sins he hadn't repented for on Earth. Or perhaps he was in coma. Or he was in an insane asylum and he simply wasn't getting better. It made sense at least, more sense than time travel.

He didn't know why he kept pushing himself to save Keith when obviously his efforts were futile. Instead of the optimistic voice that kept telling 'one more time, next time you can save him' he would think 'stop holding onto something you have no power over. Let. Go.' Of course he never could, let go, but he wanted to so fucking badly. It drained him. His muscles ached from how emotionally discombobulated he was.

He felt a little piece of himself lose hope every time he tried and inevitably failed. 

No one should be put under this much failure. No one should have to strenuously give their life to something they have no control of. But Lance let it happen to him. He let the world consume him in a never ending time warp. 

He never stopped it. But he knew he could. He knew he could stop the dream, he could stop himself from falling into the black hole, if he really wanted too. Deep down, it seemed, he didn't want to. It was never too much. But he was scared for when it might be.

So yes, when Lance says he lost count years ago, it may have as well been decade, or maybe it was only a month. He couldn't remember, honestly, the trauma clouded his sanity.

When Lance says he became desensitized to the cruelty and desperation of it all, he meant it. Because it didn't mean a single damn thing to him unless he could save Keith. Not a single damn thing. 

.  
.  
.

He woke up, Keith was asleep in the bed across from him. The room seemed to swirl and spin as if just a dream. Things began to blend together, the way Lance would wake Keith up to make sure he was alive. The way Keith would tease Lance. And the way he would ask why Lance looked so sad. It would all happen. Every time. Lance became tired of it. He didn't want to be so depressed anymore.

"You up for something?" Lance piped, he had a small spark of excitement.

Keith looked at him suspiciously, "I don't know, should I be?" 

It was absolutely insane to waste another day, but to Lance another day wasted was the same as another day of effort.

"Just, follow me dumbass."

Keith rolled his eyes. But he happily obliged considering how excited Lance appeared.

Lance didn't have a truck, no. But he wanted one because he wished he could take Keith in his truck one day. His dad used to have a truck, maybe that's why he wanted one. Back in Cuba, that's what he used to ride in. He wanted to give Keith little pieces of Cuba to carry. Little pieces of his past to hold. 

Instead Lance rented a moped. It was funny right? There was some little moped store nearby and he used some cash and rented one for the day. Of course he knew how to drive one, he had to convince Keith he knew how to at least, and he did! 

Keith held tightly onto him, his arms were wrapped around his waist, his face was pressed against his back. Lance couldn't help but secretly smile to himself, it was like a picture perfect image. He drove down the sandy concrete road towards the beach. It was colder out than either of them had anticipated but Lance liked it that way. Keith grasped onto Lance tighter because of the nippy air, attempting to use him as a shield against the wind. Lance felt his stomach drop. There was adrenaline pumping through his blood and he couldn't contain the grin that tugged on his mouth. 

"Why are you bringing me to the beach? Romantic get away?" Keith yelled over the wind that roared against both their ears.

"You wish, don't you?" Lance chuckled. Keith couldn't help but tease him constantly, could he?

Lance playfully jerked the moped side to side, trying to get a rise out of Keith. But Keith just hugged him tighter, taking his breath away. Lance pressed on the gas and allowed the acceleration to cause a tingly feeling in their stomach. 

The beach itself was colder than back at Garrison University. The breeze from the ocean nearly froze them. 

It was clear to Lance that Keith had no idea what they where doing. Hell, it was early in the morning, freezing, and frankly this was out of character for Lance. So Lance took the lead, he merely hopped of the bike and began treading through the sand, dashing towards the water. He assumed Keith was close behind, which of course he was. 

"What the hell, are you going in?" Keith called from behind him, probably shivering his ass off.

Lance jumped in place, and turned around to look at Keith. He messily pulled his shirt over his head and arms. He threw it somewhere to the side of him.

"No shit," He retorted, sprinting to the dark, sludgy sand, letting his feet imprint the ground. 

The ocean went to his knees, dampening the bottom of his shorts. He hadn't even bothered bringing a swimsuit, hell, he didn't care. The day would just repeat anyways.

Not far behind him, Keith let his toes touch the tide. His was holding himself with his arms, clearly trying to conserve heat. 

Lance began to swim. He let the water rise over his head as he held the air in his lungs. His feet played with the soft, silky sand at the bottom of the ocean. He stayed under the waves until his brain was deprived of oxygen and was on the verge of passing out. He used to do that in Cuba. Hold his breath until he felt he might die. It was now only a nostalgic memory, but he tried to relive it anyways.

Finally he lifted himself up to the surface, gasping for air. He had a huge grin and marched back the shore where Keith still stood with a pouty lip, shivering.

"You're insane, you're actually insane," Keith muttered.

"Scared of the ocean Keefy?" Lance gently pushed him. Lance was dripping with water, his whole body was covered from head to toe. Drops of water trickled from the tips of his hair and his shorts. 

"Keefy?" He cocked an eyebrow, "since when have I been Keefy?"

"Since you became a pussy," Lance joked. Then he felt a wave of spontaneity engulf him as he embraced Keith from behind, wrapping his arms around his waist, covering Keith in the cold sopping water from the ocean.

"Fuck you," Keith squirmed and tried to wriggle out of Lance's grasp, "you're soaking wet for christ's sake!" 

Lance easily lifted Keith's feet off the ground and carried him closer in the water. He threw him over his shoulder and held him tightly in place.

"Lance! Lance, hey stop!" Keith twisted and kicked his legs around.

"Say it," Lance took a few steps further in the water, "say it or I'll drop you"

"Say what, that you're an asshole?" Keith fruitlessly punched him and tried kicking some more.

"Say you're scared. Say you're scared of the ocean," Lance laughed, "You so obviously are."

"I'm just fucking cold you dick!" He defended angrily, he seriously sounded mad, Lance chuckled at him, "just let me go!"

"Oh? You want me to let you go?" Lance threatened.

"Fuck you, you're a real prick ya know," Keith replied, knowing exactly what was coming his way.

Lance flung Keith's helpless body into the ocean, letting him sink completely into the salty water. His hair became drenched along with his clothes, which now clung to his skin. When he regained control of his body and was able to stand on his own, he was a tad bit pissed. And it showed.

"Oh don't look at me like that," Lance smirked, "you had it coming."

Keith began recklessly splashing water at Lance, at his face especially. 

"Don't. Do. That. Again." He said between each splurge of water he threw.

"Or what?" Lance challenged and took two steps closer, closing the gap between them. Five inches kept them apart. He was taller than Keith. He was definitely stronger and could easily tackle him if he pleased. Lance teasingly looked down at him. But it was clear Keith didn't back down, in fact he seemed more annoyed and flustered than earlier if it was possible. 

It happened too fast for anything to register. Keith clung his arms around Lance's neck and demandingly pulled him forwards, both of them stumbling into the water. Lance felt himself collapse on top of Keith in the weightless ocean. Before either could come up for air, an enormous wave encapsulated them with a heavy blanket of water. Lance squeezed his eyelids shut. He felt a cold rush shake through his body. He felt the warmth of another human in front of him in the icy water. Gently he reached forward and pulled Keith into a his clutches, securely against his bare chest. 

Without a single word spoken Keith's hands wrapped around the back of Lance's neck, pulling him faintly. Both of their intentions became as clear as clockwork. The water surrounding them was pitch black. Lance felt his lungs begin to burn and his skin felt as if lit on fire. He leaned in and brushed his lips against Keith's. Keith lightly tugged on Lance's lips with his teeth. He wrapped his legs around Lance's hips and pulled on the back of his hair. Lance pushed himself into the kiss, running his hands under Keith's shirt and grazing his hands over his chest until finally lifting both of them to the surface of the ocean for air. They began heavily panting, in a state of shock but amusement. Lance smugly grinned as Keith still remained entwined on his body, his legs wrapped on his waist and arms hung on his shoulders.

Shit, it wasn't a dream but Lance knew it might have as well been. Tommorow it would be wiped from Keith's memories. It would be permanently gone because tommorow was merely a different version of today. And he'd be the one stuck with the mere memory of it. A memory wouldn't be enough. He wanted both of them to think about it when they looked at each other's eyes. He wanted Keith to become red when he thought about it. 

He didn't want to remember because he knew Keith would forget.

He didn't want Keith to forget.

He shook his head, "This is fucked up." All of this would be gone.

"What?" Keith tilted his head, "can't handle it because you're 'straight?'" he provoked him, clearly trying to get a reaction.

Lance pushed him off of his body, "oh shut the fuck up."

Keith, surprised by Lance's sudden mood change, felt a tinge of guilt, "I didn't mean anything by that... It's fine if you're actually straight."

"Or gay, or whatever really," he added in.

"It's not-I just-It's not about my fucking sexuality, okay?"

"Oh," he blinked dumbfounded.

It seemed every one wanted to pin who the hell his was into: boys or girls. Boy, if he knew himself he probably wouldn't be so irritated by the question. Sure now it seemed obvious. He was into Keith, he was into a guy, right? But he didn't know. What if he was just caught in the moment, in the idea of someone like Keith. What if he wasn't okay with liking another guy? What he didn't want to be into another guy?

But that wasn't it. That wasn't even the tip of his issues.

He had to figure out how the hell to save Keith before he could sort out his feelings for him.

"I'm sorry, just forget it." He smiled reassuringly. He didn't want to drag Keith into his thoughts. Today was supposed to be an escape. He wouldn't let his thoughts ruin it.

Keith obviously wasn't sure if he should just 'let it go.' He looked at Lance with a blank expression, searching Lance's eyes for an answer.

"Hey," Lance swiftly bounced on the balls of his feet, "will you follow me anywhere?"

"Uh, alright..." Keith hesitantly agreed.

.  
.  
.

2:00. Lance had about three hours left. They ate lunch for the past hour and now Lance was ready to drag Keith along with him to absolutely no where. 

They rode the moped around for a while, just simply enjoying the thrill of it. It was warmer out now that both had dried off and the sun was no longer covered by a blanket of clouds.

Time was running out. Lance took him to where he really wanted to go. He rode through the nearest woods, uphill towards the direction of the sun. Keith didn't question anything at this point. He seemed to have given up asking Lance what the hell they were doing.

He pulled the moped over and hopped off. Lance looked up. The sky was a never ending baby blue that surrounded the two of them in the middle of no where. Keith was all turned around. He was staring at the woods, confused as to what was so special about it.

Lance held his shoulders and slowly turned him the other way. Keith's eyes widened at the sight of it. Before them was a cliff that stretched miles and miles straight to the ground. The ocean laid below them if either dared to look. One wrong step and they would be hurled to their death. But it was so far away that neither could hear the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. Beyond the still of the horizon was a perfectly sculpted outline of mountains. Their tips were white with snow. Then Keith looked above them. The sky was open with possibilities and hope. It lifted gravity off the two of them. They became weightless at the mere sight of it.

"Whoa," Keith breathed.

"Ya"

5:00.

5:07

5:10.

5:12.

5:13.

It didn't matter how he died. It really didn't, because in the end he would die every time. Lance could obsess over it, over every single move Keith made and every strand of hair that was displaced when it happened, only to try and prevent it next time. But it didn't matter. Lance's efforts were fruitless. He was so small. He was only one human. 

But Lance hadn't given up yet. He simply needed to realize how to be impactful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this far! Comment and let me know what you think, thxx :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy guys, school just started up so I might start slowing down with the updates, but hopefully not haha. Anyways, enjoy the new chapter :))

Lance remembered what Pidge told him about time travel. He needed to make a big enough impact so that he could jump to another alternative universe. How the hell was he supposed make a big enough impact? 

"What's wrong, you seem off?" Keith inquired. He examined Lance's facial expression. Lance couldn't even deny it. He was feeling like shit. He was wondering how many more days of this he could take.

"I'm just not enough. That's all." Oh c'mon, Lance thought, what a lame answer. It didn't even make sense. But it was true. He was at the point of breaking because he felt he wasn't enough to change anything.

"Not enough for what-er-for who?" Keith's curiosity was a pain in the ass sometimes.

"Don't worry about it, I'm alright, okay?"

"No. Don't say that." A demanding inflection snuck into his voice. "Lance, you've been like this for a while. Why can't you talk to me?"

It was so tempting. Just tell him, idiot. What's the harm anyways?

"I'm never fucking enough. Okay? Do you know how hard I've been trying? The universe has fucked me over so many times. 

Why the fuck am I never enough?"

The room was getting hot and Lance felt so angry. He was angry at the world. He was angry at god. He was terribly mad at Keith for dying. Hell, the list could go on for days about who he was mad at and why. His anger was so useless and pitiful. 

He seriously could go on about why he was so damn angry, but the truth was he was simply disappointed in himself for failing. 

"Hey," Keith's violet eyes tore him away from his thoughts, "you've always been enough."

"I'm not. Don't you get it? You'll die, and you'll keep dying, and I'll never be enough." Fuck he shouldn't have said that. Keith doesn't know about his death, he won't understand.

"I'll die? Look at me," Keith pleaded. Lance finally locked eyes with him. "I'm not dead. I'm right here Lance. I'm okay. I'm alive. You're okay. You're alive."

Lance slowly shook his head and pulled back, "but you will die. Soon."

Of course Keith didn't understand. There was no way for him to possibly understand the nonsense coming out of Lance's mouth. Honestly, Lance was beginning to sound insane. But what else could be do? He had to talk to somebody!

"What do you mean?" He sincerely wanted to know. He wanted to know what was causing Lance so much pain.

"5:13. You'll be dead and you won't remember anything. You'll forget this conversation and you'll forget that you died." Hell with it, might as well confess the truth and dig himself into a deeper hole. It's not like Keith will remember, he'll be dead by tommorow anyways.

"I still don't understand..? Why will I be dead?"

"Because you've died like a fucking thousand times already! And I've tried to save you so fucking much. I'm reliving the same fucking day okay?"

Why did Lance even bother trying to explain it? Keith simply looked at him with such a lost expression. 

"5:13," Lance repeated, "just wait." 

"So, what, like you're reliving this day? like déjà vu? Or a dream?"

"No. Like a never ending circle. Like time travel."

Keith looked fully enticed, like he was uncovering some hidden secret. But completely to Lance's surprise, Keith seemed to understand. His face wasn't filled with pity or worry, he had curiosity. Keith looked like he was searching for something, he was searching for something to connect with.

"Lance, I have this dream."

"What?"

"I dreamt that you caught me. I was falling into a dark hole, into a vacuum of space. And then you were above me, you broke through this glass screen and got to me. You caught me."

"It felt so real, yet I think I was dying" he went on, "but you somehow managed to keep me alive despite that I should've been dead.

But it was just a dream anyways... It doesn't mean anything."

Of course. That was the same way Lance was able to reverse time. But Keith could see it too? He was... There? Then, could Lance communicate to him through this strange dream? 

Why the fuck didn't he know that?

"Did I say anything to you, in the dream? Do you think you can hear me?"

"You kept screaming from behind the glass. I couldn't hear you, but you were clearly screaming. I've had this dream so many times... It's so weird ya know?"

"It's strange... Do you think you could hear with me at all?"

"Maybe when you broke through the glass, but that parts all a blur, it's so quick and fuzzy. But this one time I was able to hear your voice... but I don't know what you said."

.  
.  
.

Lance banged on the glass wall. He pounded his fists with determination and desperation. The glass was simply absorbing the pressure and bouncing back. Lance's knuckles were red and began to bleed as he tore his skin. But he kept going, he kept punching and pounding until finally making a dent.

The glass shattered into a million little pieces and he fell. It was quick, he could barely sort out his thought. First find Keith... Fuck, he was falling so rapidly all he could see were blurred pieces of glass around him. He needed to slow down, to take control. He closed his eyes and deeply inhaled. The sound of his heart beat began to slow down. He relaxed his muscles, letting them be consumed by the black vacuum below him. A wave of peace rushed over him, clearing his mind and soothing his fears. He simply breathed. Letting the oxygen fill his lungs until finally exhaling out the toxins. In and out. In and out.

He opened his eyes. The world around him began to slow down, he felt his he was swimming in water. It was almost like defying gravity, he had this control over himself and his actions. Even the pieces of glass seemed to be moving in slow motion. Did he do that? 

Keith. He was in the depths of the blackness, falling back in time. Lance pushed himself down, letting his own weight pull him downwards. Farther, faster, closer. He kept reaching and propelling himself down into the hole. He was so close. 

"Keith? Can you hear me?" He shouted, but his voice didn't translate as he imagined. His words seemed to drown, like yelling at the bottom of the ocean. 

He kept pushing himself closer. Keith was falling below him, but his arms were stretched above him and his hands reached up towards Lance. He tried to grab the tips of his fingers, barely touching them. Lance grasped onto his hand and drew Keith closer to his chest. 

"Hey?" Lance asked, "can you hear me?"

Keith eyes were wide and he nodded. Lance's voice was clear as day.

"What's happening?" He eyes were filled with wonder and curiosity.

"I'm going to save you okay? I promise."

"Save me?"

"You're dead now, but I'll save you. I promise."

He opened his mouth but words seemed to fail him.

"Listen, you're not dreaming, this is real. I'm real. But I'm coming to save you, just don't forget this okay?"

Keith understood, it was clear to Lance he understood. Lance didn't know what would happen, but maybe Keith would finally be aware. Maybe he would finally know what the hell was happening. Maybe he could save himself since Lance was unable to.

He woke up. 

Keith was still asleep. He hesitated to waking him up. He didn't want to ruin his sleep, he wanted to make sure he remembered.

Lance sat down in their office chair that had wheels and could easily be moved around on the wooden floor. He rolled himself closer to Keith and watched him sleep. It seemed Keith was always at peace when he was sleeping. Sleep was like an that in between of life and death. It was so strange watching Keith be unconscious but not dead; that's all Lance had seen anyway-a dead lifeless form of Keith. He was so used to it. But sleeping was completely different than death, it kept Keith alive. Maybe that's why he looked so peaceful, he was trying to stay alive. That was one thing Lance never saw when Keith was dead... He would always look so disturbed and tainted, like his death was somehow going against nature's beauty. It wasn't right. It was wrong.

Keith slept tangled in the sheets, one of his legs out in the cold and the other under the warmth of the blanket. Keith slept with jewelry on: an earpiercing on his right ear, a simple chain necklace with a little red anchor attached to it, and an assortment of woven bracelets. Come to think of it, Keith never really took it off, maybe it some sort of attachment thing?

The dorm was terribly quiet. Almost uncomfortably so. To some extent Lance wanted something to happen, but he also was tired of having to act. He wanted to do nothing. He wanted to just sit their and watch Keith until he forgot what he was doing. 

Lance kept waiting.

Soon Keith would wake up and Lance would have to make sure he stayed alive. 

So he kept waiting. 

Soon.

Soon.

Keith's eyes shot open with urgency. He sharply inhaled and looked around the room, alert and slightly startled. He looked like he was scared because of a terrifying nightmare. Could it be..? He began to calm down when he saw Lance and realized where he was.

Holy shit, Lance thought, maybe Keith actually remembered what he said in the dream, and what he said about saving him and about his death. And maybe Keith knew he would die, and that he's already died a million times before. Maybe he knew what the hell Lance had been going through. Maybe things were actually happening.

Shit. Things were actually happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you guys think? Hope you enjoyed!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, sorry this one's short and I felt like it was a little rushed, but that's mostly because I needed to post something without putting this work on hold for too long lol. But I still enjoyed writing this chapter and it definitely progresses the story. Anywho, I finally have figured out how to end this fic and I'm excited to get into the final chapters!! Thanks sm for sticking with me this far:))

Keith's seemed a little baffled, a little stuck, like he was trying to remember something on the tip of his tongue. He looked up at Lance.

"I had the weirdest fucking dream last night," he said softly.

"Well," Lance chuckled, "it wasn't a dream."

Keith tilted his head to the side with a confused expression.

"C'mon? Don't you remember?" Lance was really hoping Keith would piece it all together on his own, "don't you remember what I told you last night?" But maybe he needed a little nudging.

"Well, in my dream you said you were going to save me. Whatever the fuck that means..."

"Right, but what else...?" it felt like he was pulling teeth.

"I don't know Lance, it seems you know more about my dream than I do."

"Fine," Lance sighed, "just forget it."

Keith clearly wasn't going to drop it. He never really was one to just drop it. When Lance said something, it was never just 'forgotten'. Fuck Keith never forgot shit, but he seemed to easily forget last night.

"It's not like I'm trying to forget," Keith said, "I just can't seem to-"

"Remember," Lance sighed, "Ya I know. You can't seem to remember the one damn time I need you too," Did that come off too harshly? He was just pissed. But in a general sense, not necessarily at Keith.

"Fuck off," Keith got out of bed and began to get dressed.

Neither of them had an issue changing in front of one another, neither cared enough. 

Lance watched him, it felt kinda wrong but he just liked to watch Keith. He tore off his shirt, his shoulders blades were sharp and muscular. Just from his back it was obvious he took care of his body. Lance hadn't looked at Keith's back before. To be fair, Keith didn't really take his shirt off much, though he should more often. Keith's hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck, fucking cute as always. He pulled a black hoodie over a simple white shirt covering the tattoos that wrapped around his arms. Lance wouldn't admit it, but Keith pulled off a tattoo better than anyone he knew.

"Would you stop staring at my ass?" Keith muttered.

Shiiittttt. Caught blue handed, huh?

Keith zipped up his jeans and turned around, "what? cat got your tongue?"

Lance flipped him off, "your gay ass wishes I stared at it."

Keith rolled his eyes, "talk to me when you stop acting so weird... I mean what the hell did you want to say about my dream?" 

"I-its just that... Nothing. Just forget it."

"Ya sure? You seemed so worried about it."

"You can't remember, so just forget it, okay?"

He blinked dumbfounded, "fine, fuck you too then."

He opened the door. And left. Probably just heading off to class. But Lance was hoping Keith would stay.

Was it really that easy to lose him? One second Lance thinks he can finally reach out to him, find a way to get Keith to understand, then everything starts to go south. He was beginning to wonder if he's making any progress at all.

He had to go after him. He had to finally end all this pointless time travel.

He slammed the door behind himself as he tried to catch up to Keith. It was cold as hell and the wind nipped at his feet. He seriously should have put on some shoes...

"Keith!" Lance yelled. He could see him walking just a few feet ahead.

Without even bothering to turn around, Keith gave a small wave of acknowledgement and continued on. Did that asshole really just ignore him?

Lance sprinted a little bit to catch up to him until he was able to put a hand on Keith's shoulder.

"Listen, I'm sorry I've been weird, and I know I need to be straight with you. There's a lot of shit you should know."

That seemed to appease Keith a little bit, "Okay." But he kept walking at a pretty brisk pace, a little aggressively if Lance says so himself.

"It's just, you probably won't understand, it's batshit crazy and it doesn't make any sense and-"

"Lance," He said.

"Can you stop walking away from me? I'll be serious now, I promise, I just need you to slow down." Lance pulled Keith by his wrist and stopped him in his tracks.

"Lance"

"I know, I know, but I'm trying to tell you. I'm just not good with words." 

Keith's eyes softened and he clearly was focused solely on Lance now, "Lance, would you just listen to me?"

"Oh... Ya, I can do that." He dropped Keith's wrist and listened.

"I think I'm remembering," he began, "In my dream, you said I was dead. I think you said it was all real or something."

"You're remembering?" Lance's face brightened up, he clearly let negativity cloud his mind too fast lately, "what else can you remember?"

"We were in some dark hole and you kept telling me you were going to save me. But I mean 'save' me? Why the hell would I need saving?"

"Don't you get it yet? I'm trying to save you now. I've been trying to save you."

"From what Lance? I don't get it."

"I'm trying to save you from dying."

"What?"

"C'mon, the 'dream' you had wasn't a dream dumbass. It was a black hole, we were falling back in time. I mean, do you know how many times I've relived this day?"

Keith furrowed his brows and stared at the ground in thought. All of this wasn't really easy to believe.

"Okay, hypothetically, if this is true, when will I die? How will I die?"

Lance shrugged, "I don't know how, but at 5:13. That's when it always happens."

"So, hypothetically, how do we stop it from happening?"

"So you believe me?"

"I don't know Lance, it's crazy, and I don't want to believe it."

"Fine, I get that. But do you trust me?"

"Always."

.  
.  
.

Lance finally had some sort of a plan, and wasn't really guaranteed or anything, but it was a start.

The first time Keith died. The very beginning that had started this whole draining, strenuous conundrum. That's what needed to change. Keith was murdered by someone somewhere.

There was a pattern to Keith's death. If Lance didn't interfere, then Keith would be murdered. He would be murdered by the same guy, so Lance assumes, and at the same place: in front of their dorm. The suspect was unknown, hell, they were more than just unknown, they were impossible to track down it felt like. But if Lance could find a way to stop whoever kept hurting Keith, then maybe he could make a big enough impact and jump to another universe. Maybe he could finally be able to carve out the future he's always wanted, and that includes one where Keith's alive.

Maybe he'd be brave enough to accept how he feels for Keith.

To start with, Lance needed a lead. He simply should just ask Keith himself: who the hell would want to kill you?

So that's basically what he did.

cubanmotherfucker: truth or truth

redsamurai: isn't it truth or dare?

cubanmotherfucker: ya but how the hell am I supposed to make you do a dare over text?

redsamurai: fair point, truth

cubanmotherfucker: name one person who you think would kill you if given the chance

redsamurai: okay, strange question, but let me think...

redsamurai: I get to ask you a good question also alright?

cubanmotherfucker: ya sure, whatever you want.

redsamurai: alright, well I haven't told anyone this yet since it's kinda intense... But do you remember how I moved to California for college?

cubanmotherfucker: ya, you said you wanted to pursue your dream school and shit

redsamurai: right, well, remember how my bf wanted me to stay with him?

cubanmotherfucker: ya, why?

redsamurai: when I told him I was leaving to California, he didn't take it well, he said he'd beat the shit out of me if he ever saw me again

cubanmotherfucker: holy fuck, did you report him?

redsamurai: no, I just left to California. He's not a violent guy, I think I just hurt him badly. But fuck he was seriously pissed at me.

cubanmotherfucker: not a violent guy? No offense but claiming he'll beat the shit out of you seems a little violent to me.

redsamurai: I don't know... but it doesn't matter, its all in the past and I'm in California, away from him.

cubanmotherfucker: do you think he'll try to follow you?

redsamurai: hey, no more questions! My turn to ask you.

cubanmotherfucker: alright fine, shoot

redsamurai: what's your real name? 

cubanmotherfucker: My name, huh? You don't like cubanmotherfucker?

redsamurai: I just wanna know what your real name is

cubanmotherfucker: Lance

redsamurai: hmm weird

cubanmotherfucker: what?

redsamurai: My new roommate. His name's Lance too, what are the odds?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and feel free to let me know what you think!! <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so enjoy!

It was over, Lance didn’t know what to do except tell Keith. So that’s what he did. 

It was a struggle, and Keith made many expressions of disbelief and anger and annoyance but upon hearing the stuff about his dreams, Lance’s intimate knowledge of Keith’s dreams and things they never talked about, finally convince different him. 

“I believe you, Lance,” Keith commented. 

Lance gasped. “Really?!” 

“Yup!”

Lance gasped again. 

“So what do you want to do? Who gonna kill you?”

“How would I know dipshit? Now how do we change it?”

“How would I know dipshit?”

“I’ve got an idea.”

Bang. 

Keith shot himself in the chest. 

Lance gasped. “Dipshit! What’d you do?”

“You said you needed a big change. I should survive this.”

There was a gasp around the corner. 

A murderer was standing there. “Guess he offed himself, no need for me to do it.”

And he left. 

Lance called 911, “my friend just shot himself in front of me. Send ambulance.”

There was a gasp on the phone. “Why’d the dipshit do that?” I’ll send ambulance.”

The ambulance came. 

Hospital was white, Lance’s heart was red. “I hope he lives, that dipshit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s your guys’ thoughts?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Final chapter, enjoy!!

bleep beep goes the machine. 

torturing bleep beep. 

bleep and Lance remembered Keith’s smile. 

beep and Lance remembered kissing him. 

bleep and Keith woke up. 

beep- GASP!!!!!

and everything was ok. 

“Hey dipshit.” Lance smiled, the bleep beep had stopped. 

“I love you dipshit.”

bleep and a kiss. 

beep and a soft smile. 

it stopped again. 

There were bright blue freckles in Lance’s dark blue irises, the epinephrine from their kiss dilated his pupils. Lance caressed the side of Keith’s cheek, gently, endearingly, lovingly, the cheek that was pale, with light brown freckles sprinkling the lovely natural skin.

bleep beep

Maybe in Cuba Lance would be happy, or maybe in Keith’s pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe this is the end! It’s been such an adventure and I’m so glad I got to spend it with you! :) <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think! This was really just a small intro and I'll bring in more characters and plot further on! Any ideas for the plot or next chapter?


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